


I am Tyler's

by LisaFQueen



Series: Project Tyler [1]
Category: Fight Club (1999), Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8315017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaFQueen/pseuds/LisaFQueen
Summary: The first rule is I don't talk about Tyler. Not to anyone.So I don't.





	1. When in doubt

I am Jack's aching lungs.

 

Tyler almost drowned me. 

 

Rewind. I don't care what the special doctors say and if they think Tyler's not real. He is. 

At least to me. 

The first rule is I don't talk about Tyler. Not to anyone.

 So I don't. 

 I don't talk about how he was standing in my new condo (I am Jack's complete lack of surprise) like he had never been gone.

 Like I never killed him.

 Like he didn't even care. 

 

I don't talk about the way he was offering me a beer, as if to say 'don't worry, you can trust me.'

 You motherfucker, I say, coming back in your fucking army pants and with your dark blond spikes and with your stupid scars you didn't want to die without. I was screaming now.

 Not because I hadn't expected his comeback, but because it took him so long. So. Fucking. Long.

 

I had seen him come to the surface in flashes and every time I saw him a little longer, until-

 

"Hey man I didn't come back on my own. You called me. You needed me and you still need me. Look at what you have now, a fucking pathetic new condo-life with new fucking furniture. "

 

I looked at him, inspected him. I didn't even bother to hide the fact that I had missed him. His clothes, his skin, the smell of smoke, his scent.

 Even though he stood in the doorway (with army pants and a shirt that hang open so I could see his bare chest again) and I in the middle of the room I could smell his sweaty/smokey/soapey scent drifting towards me.

 

_God_ , I had missed this so much. I had missed Tyler.

 He put his beer down.

 He seemed pissed off by something. Was it me? Did I say anything offensive? 

 

Not that you can offend Tyler that easily. You could yell all kinds of stuff at him and if you were lucky he would look up. If you were really lucky, he would laugh at you.

 

He stepped inside and closed the door. Walking in a circle, inspecting everything and then he looked at me, standing in front of me.

 

"Come back to Paper Street."

 

I asked why, and if it hasn't collapsed yet. 

It wouldn't surprise me if Tyler still lived there nowadays. And if the building had rotten itself to the ground.

 

"Because you're turning into a fucking housewife, that's why. Coming home from work, eating dinner with the family. But you don't have family. You had me and Marla. And now she's gone and I'm here."

 

I am Jack's indecisiveness. 

 

How did he know about Marla? 

Maybe he had looked into my files updated by my doctors. 

 

I opened my mouth to say something, but Tyler spoke for me.

 

"Yes, I know about your little visits. And I know everything you said there." 

 

His voice was soft but his face wasn't. 

 

Tyler, you weren't supposed to listen! 

 

"Why not? Are you hiding something from me?" 

 

He threw away his cigarette and didn't bother to at least wait one minute to light another one. I saw the cigarette touch his lips and he closed his eyes, grateful for the toxic chemicals he was breathing in. 

 

"Did you really think I didn't notice your little problem?" 

 

Oh God. He was smirking with his cigarette lingering in the corner of his mouth.

 

"Meh, don't worry man. I don't care. I'm still your best friend, right?"

 

He emphasized the word _right_  and I got the feeling I had to say something. I didn't want to confirm that we're friends.

My doctors told me not to do that when he came back. I told them I started seeing Tyler again in flashes.

That's when they started to write more down than usual and gave me all this tips I was supposed to follow.

 

But I didn't. 

 

And now he's back. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Fast forward. I ask about the space monkeys.

I ask about Angel Face.

 

Then Tyler chuckles.

 

He had this look on his face and this sparkle in his eyes. Even more mischievous than ever.

 

I ask, what did you do to them? Disposed?

 

Tyler leaned against a low wall and the light of the lantern made his face look yellowish.

 

"The space monkeys who survived went on with their lives. As for Angel Face, that's none of your damn business."

 

I was startled. I didn't know what to expect when the words came out of my mouth, but not this.

 

Oh no, he didn't kill him, did he?

 

Had I been sleeping again?

 

Tyler, you sick fuck, what happened?

 

No response, nothing. Not even a glance this way.

He was too busy lighting his damn cigarette.

 

Answer me, dammit!

 

Holding his now-lit cigarette between his thumb and index finger, he looked up and there was something dark about his gaze, as if it were my fault. Intensely staring at me, he said:

 

"You're not the only one who needs me."

 

What did he mean by that?

 

I don't need you. I didn't ask for you to come back!

 

"You need me. Now get over it."

 

Tyler gazed at me and a grin appeared on his face.

 

"You missed me, didn't you?"

 

I chuckled. Yes, honestly I did, but I don't want you near me. You'll destroy my life again and I don't want that.

 

"So what happened to try and hit bottom? You gave up or what?" he said and I was actually relieved to hear those words.

 

Hitting bottom. It's something I've been avoiding for quite some time now. It felt like way too much time.

Ever since my 'doctor' told me to write everything down that made Tyler Tyler.

I wrote 'At least Tyler hit bottom.' and that's when I realized I stopped trying.

 

Tyler made me snap out of my memories of what else I had written on that same paper. His grin disappeared and he looked mad.

 

"I told you: I'm not going back to the fucking condo-life! And neither are you!"

 

He was standing close to me now, the smoke that came out of his mouth touched my face. I could taste it.

 

Tyler's eyes hadn't changed one bit. This I saw when he leaned towards me as to tell me a secret.

 

"You better tell me what you told your little friend at the doctor's office, ask me the same question."

 

Oh God, Tyler was so close to me and it was hard to form sentences in my head, let alone a decent one that came out of my mouth. I tried to laugh it off and took a step back, despite my instincts to be as close to Tyler as possible.

 

The friend he was referring to was a young boy who was sitting in the waiting room. I had an interesting conversation with him.

 

First he, the boy, asked me, hey mister, politely why I was there. I answered that I shot a man in the head. Then he asked me why I did it.

That's when I had to think about the thing I didn't want to say. So I said that that man was crazy. It wasn't exactly a lie, either.

Two minutes later I found out that the little boy had touched the girl he loved. Strong language for an eight-year-old. He said that when he told his mommy what he had done, his mommy had immediately called his special doctor. He had always had his special doctor because he couldn't fit in in school. But that didn't matter to him. I asked what the girl did, apparently she screamed and begged him to stop. When I asked him why he didn't stop then, he said: "Because how else is she going to know that I really love her? That I would die for her?"

 

That is exactly what reminded me of Tyler. He would take the same thought-path. But what do I know about Tyler Durden? After all, I did kill him.

 

"Hey, don't space out! I said: just ask, man."

 

Tyler's voice ran through my mind again and I felt myself sitting down.  Confused I looked up, Tyler standing in front of me. We were inside.

 

I couldn't even remember walking back home. I just couldn't remember anything.

 

What exactly should I ask, Tyler?

 

Saying his name aloud was a blessing. I could only do it in his presence, because of the whole 'do not talk about me' thing.

 

"Your question, the thing you've been wanting to ask for years. C'mon! Don't be such a coward."

 

He teasingly poked a beer at my thigh while crouching in front of me.

 

What?

 

His smirk and blue eyes were killing me, and he knew it. I'm sure. I'm positively-

 

"Hey man, now's the right time, y'know. Never gonna be a better time. Better do it now than later."

 

No, Tyler. Not fucking now.

 

I stubbornly put my arms in front of me, looking down at him.

 

Not now, not ever.


End file.
